"Possessed, Possessions"

This poem was originally published on The Pittsburgher’s predecessor, The Dog Door Cultural.

I became the needle,

so I may know your blood,

as you often prick your finger

when you sit to sew.

I became the bed beneath you,

so I may know your weight

and shape to the crescents

of your hips.

I became the pendant

hanging from your necklace,

so I may know your fragrance,

the scent of dried roses.

I became the mirror

you stand in the center of,

so I may, too, observe you.

Your death rattled me,

for I no longer knew where to go

to find you.

So, beloved,

I became your coffin,

so I may stay with you

until your bones fade

to dust. ▲

Fallon Whyte is a New York based writer and poet. He is of African-Caribbean heritage and has been passionate about writing since age five. He currently enjoys themes of human anatomy, juxtaposing light and dark, nature, relationships, and the macabre in life.